The Tailgater on the Field
by Benjamin Franklin Gates
Summary: A body is found at FedEx Field, and it appears to be a tailgater. Meanwhile, Booth's brother Jared returns, and he must make an important life choice before he loses everyone he cares about.
1. Gameday

Booth was sitting in his office reading his morning briefs. It was a calm morning, he hadn't heard anything on the scanner while he drove to work, and the usually buzzing office seemed dull and almost lifeless.

Booth picked up his phone and stared at the screen. He hated this feeling; it was as if he was waiting for something to go wrong. Of course he hoped that it wouldn't but he couldn't help but anticipate it. Just as he sat his phone back on his desk it rang.

"Booth." Booth answered. The half-smile on his face sunk away. "I'll be there in 25 minutes, I've got to pick up my partner." Booth quickly hung up and dialed his fiancé. "Bones." He said. "We've got a case, apparently a body was found at _FedEx Field_." Booth let out a faint chuckle. "No, the football stadium."

Booth's drive to the Jeffersonian seemed like it happened in a blur, he usually felt lonely when he drove alone, but today was different. He didn't like the feeling, but it almost seemed to grow on him.

* * *

"Bones, you ready?" Booth said as he rushed onto the forensic platform.

"You okay, Booth?" Dr. Saroyan asked. "You don't look so good."

"Jared might be in trouble."

"Was he arrested? You want me to make some calls?"

"Not that kind of trouble."

"Oh." Dr. Saroyan gasped.

"What? Why 'Oh'?" Brennan asked.

Booth silently looked into his fiancé's eyes. "The kind of trouble he can only get into with a woman."

"Oh." Brennan said. "Anthropologically speaking; pregnancy wouldn't be considered trouble. It's necessary for the survival of the species."

"Let's go, Bones."

Booth and Brennan walked out to the SUV.

"Did Jared call you this morning?" Brennan asked.

"No, his ex-girlfriend called."

"What? They broke up?"

"Yeah, apparently Jared wanted her to get rid of it, but she's Catholic, like me."

"I don't see why religion would impede that sort of decision." Brennan suggested.

"Because we don't believe in abortion, Bones."

"If you have free will, why would _God_ condemn you for using it?"

"You don't get it do you? The whole point of free will is kind of like a test. God makes it so we can choose what we're going to do in our life, and those of us that choose to live a holy life are rewarded with eternal life."

"If _God_ did exist he would more than likely rule like a dictatorship rather than dulling out freedoms."

"Okay, Bones, first of all, God does exist, secondly stop saying his name like that, and lastly, I'm not about to have this argument with you again." Booth sighed and stared intently at the road.

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Booth."

The remainder of the ride was silent.

When Booth finally pulled up to _FedEx Field_ he and Dr. Brennan jumped out of the car and quickly maneuvered around the FBI Forensic techs that had already investigated the crime scene.

As Booth and Brennan approached the entrance Dr. Hodgins came running out with a large smile on his face.

"Unless Dr. Brennan can identify the murder weapon just by looking at the body, I am _King of the NFL_. I just found a sack of mosquito eggs that indicate the deceased was in a swampy area at or around time of death. And on top of that… I found indicators of gnats, yeast, and mustard seed."

"And what does all that mean?" Booth asked.

"Tailgate party. Gnats indicate food that was sitting out exposed to the elements for anywhere from two to six hours, yeast indicates beer and or bread, and mustard seed indicates, well, mustard. You put that together, you've got an All-American Tailgate Party."

"Oh great." Booth exclaimed.

"What?" Dr. Brennan asked, "That doesn't seem like near enough information to seal this case."

"No, Bones, Tailgating means I'm going to have to talk to a bunch of crazy football fans. Any one of them could be capable of murder."

"But you like football; does that make you capable of murder?" Brennan asked.

"I think what Booth means is-"

"-I can talk, Hodgins." Booth interrupted. "You get a bunch of loyal fans drunk, they get into an argument before the game, one team loses, and another fight ensues. I've seen people killed for less."

"That's conjecture, Booth, we aren't even sure those particulates are from a Tailgate, and Hodgins hasn't had time to run them through the mass spec, he could have easily confused them with any number of things."

"Brennan, I know my tailgates." Hodgins said.

Booth rolled his eyes and then led Brennan onto the field where the body was discovered.

"Detective Arnolds, MPD, the body was found while the field was being painted. Grounds man said that he felt a bump, and when he stopped to take a look he found a body."

"Did your guys take a look at it?"

"Hell no. Last time my guys touched a corpse, your bone-lady freaked out on us. We cordoned off the body and made sure to keep our distance."

"Thanks, Detective." Booth said. He and Brennan walked away from the Detective and onto the field, approaching the body.

"I did not freak out!"

"You did, a little."

Brennan walked under the police tape and approached the body very slowly. "Male. Based on the existence of full eruption of the wisdom teeth I'd say at least 20 years old. Approximately 140 cm, he was short."

"Which would be…?" Booth asked.

"About four foot seven inches."

"Really short, are you sure he's 20?"

"Wisdom teeth don't lie."

"Anything else other than short 20ish male?"

"Caucasian."

"I'll start combing through missing persons, as soon as I can get a face it'll be a lot easier."

"There seems to be quite a bit of damage to the phalanges radiating bones in the forearms and wrists."

"That happens when you get run over with a tractor." Booth said.

"I won't be able to determine much more until I get the bones cleaned."

"Back to the lab?"

"Back to the lab." Brennan said.

* * *

Jared strolled into his brother's office. He tossed his jacket onto the chair and plopped down into it. "You wanted to see me, Seeley."

"Yeah." Booth said solemnly. He dropped his stack of paperwork and leaned forward onto his desk.

"What's up?"

"Teri called me. She told me what happened."

"We broke up. Things happen, people change." Jared blew off the comments from his brother, but he knew where this conversation was going.

"She's pregnant, did you know that?"

"That's what sparked the argument." Jared said, "In a way."

"What do you mean; 'in a way'?" Booth asked.

"I told her to get rid of it. We're too young for kids."

"And I'm guessing she said no."

"Yeah." Jared said. "She wants kids, I don't right now."

"So, you're going to walk out on that kid. You're not going to be its dad? Why, because you think it's a mistake?"

"I am the dad."

"No, you're the father." Booth said. He stood from his chair and walked closer to his brother. "Anyone can be a father. That just means you helped create the child. But a dad, a dad is someone that loves the child, unconditionally. If it's a boy, his dad teaches him to fish, ride bikes, play football. If it's a girl, her dad listens to her sing, takes her for ice cream, has tea parties."

"I'm not up for all that stuff."

"You need to man up, Jared. One day, you're gonna look back, and wish you could be a dad, and Teri's not going to let you in her child's life."

"I think I'm man enough, Seeley, I fought for my country."

"So did dad."

"I don't need this. I'm going." Jared stood to leave.

Booth grabbed his arm and drug him back into his seat. "Look at Bones' brother."

"Russ?"

"He is probably the worst brother in the world. He hasn't got a clue where his life's going, or how he's going to provide for his family. But that's not what makes him different than you. The defining point in Russell Brennan's life, is that he stood up, he manned up, and he became a dad to two little girls that needed one. And if you don't go make things right with Teri. Some man is going to come in and be a daddy to your child. Is that what you want?"


	2. The Shortest Fan

"Seeley, it's good that you can move on, and be a dad, and be with your kids, but I can't. After the way Dad was, what if I'm the same way? What if I get mad one night and lose control? I can't risk hurting Teri, or my child."

"Jared," Booth said, "I understand how you feel, every time I get mad, I feel that little part of Dad in me, but, I've always controlled myself. You can't punish yourself, and your child because of what our dad did to us." Booth sat down on his desk and looked his brother in the eye.

"It's a big risk. Every time I've gotten mad in the past, I've done things I regret. How many times have you had to pick me up from jail because I beat someone's face in?"

"And how many of those people deserved it? I'm not saying what you did was right. But I know you; I know you're a good man. And every time you hit some guy was because of what he did first. I remember up in New York, some asshole punched his wife and you took him out to the dumpster. Your acts of violence were protection, not instigation." Booth put his hand on Jared's shoulder and locked eye contact.

"I just don't want to become Dad."

"You aren't Dad. There is more of Pops in the both of us than our father. We have Dad's DNA, but we were raised by Pops, and he always protected us. That's why you continually try to protect these strangers and end up getting arrested. It's because deep down, you are Pops' son."

"What do I do? How do I go talk to Teri? She probably hates me now."

"You explain to her what you did and why you did it. She loves you. She's going to understand."

Booth's phone rang.

"Take it." Jared said.

"Are you sure?"

Booth's phone continued ringing.

"I'm fine, you've got a case."

Booth answered his phone, "Booth."

* * *

"We've got a positive ID on the victim." Cam said, she handed a file to Booth, "His name's Terry Williams, he was '_The Redskins' Shortest Fan_'; he traveled with the team to every game for the past two seasons."

"Why would someone want him dead?" Booth asked.

"Yeah, that's kind of your job, Seeley." Cam said with a small smile.

"Thanks," Booth said, he paused for a few moments before adding "Camille."

"Don't call me Camille."

"Don't call me Seeley." Booth laughed and then patted Cam on the shoulder with the file. "Did Hodgins find anything else in the dirt?"

"Ask him yourself." Cam said.

Hodgins walked over to the forensic platform. "You know better than to call my work dirt." Hodgins said.

"Are you guys competing to find out who I'll shoot first?" Booth asked.

"Well… I found an egg sack in the victim's shoes. When I hatched it I was able to determine that my little friends are Mediterranean Recluses, sadly that doesn't tell us much, except that our victim spent some time in the greater D.C. area right before death."

"Good job, Dr. Hodgins, keep looking." Cam said.

"That's not all. I did find something distinctive about our victim's shoes. With the exception of the dirt he was buried in, his shoes were nearly pristine; in fact, the leather on the tongue wasn't even creased."

"Meaning?" Booth asked.

"Meaning, he most likely purchased the shoes within days of his death, and as an added bonus, once I sift through the particulates that would be found at the Stadium, I should be able to discern the crime scene."

"That's what I like to hear. Where's Bones?"

"Dr. Brennan is in her office, let her know that Dr. Edison should be finished cleaning the bones soon."

"Alright, Clark, bones, soon, gotcha."

Booth quickly walked to his fiancé's office.

"Booth, what's up?"

"We've got positive ID on the victim; I need you to come with me to tell his family, the live right outside the city." Booth said, he began motioning with his hands for Dr. Brennan to come with him.

"I'm going to be needed here, Dr. Edison took the bones to be cleaned nearly an hour ago, take Sweets." Brennan said.

"But you know how he gets, he gets all shrinky and he's going to try to talk to me about Jared in the car."

"I'm sorry, Booth."

* * *

"Agent Booth, I find it interesting that you would ask me to come with you to tell the family, usually you take Dr. Brennan with you. Are you two having any trouble?" Sweets asked.

"Sweets, I asked you because Bones was busy, if you want I can drop you off at the intersection and let you walk back." Booth said with a bit of snarl in his voice.

"I'm judging by the hostility with which you said that, that you needed to talk to Dr. Brennan about something."

"No, I just feel more comfortable with her."

"Because she's a woman?" Sweets asked. "Do you feel more in control when you're working with a woman?"

"Whoa! I didn't say that. I just want to go talk to the family."

"Is this about your brother?"

"Here we go."

"Yeah, it's about your brother." Sweets said, "Dr. Brennan told me that Jared broke up with his girlfriend when she found out that she was pregnant. Do you think that some of your hostility toward your brother could in turn affect your work?"

"No, we got it figured out."

"So you helped him through it?"

"Yeah, he was afraid of becoming our father, and I told him that he's not our father." Booth said.

Sweets remained silent for a few moments.

"Okay, what'd I do wrong? You're not talking now." Booth said.

"With your brother's history of violence, it's not unnatural for him to be fearful of what he might do in a fit of rage. It would be healthier for him to seek psychiatric evaluation before he knowingly enters a situation that he fears he can't control."

"Wait, are you saying that he was right?"

"There's no right or wrong, I'm just saying that he may feel more comfortable knowing that he can control his feelings before he spends extended time with people that he loves, and fears that he could hurt, emotionally or physically."

"Then what about me? I've never hurt Parker, I'd never dream of laying a finger on Christine."

"Your situation is different. You were older when your grandfather stepped in and stopped the violence, you were able to see the damage that your father caused and the pain he caused himself. Being older you were able to compartmentalize your feelings of nostalgia alongside your feelings of pain, you were able to see them as two separate feelings and knowingly make a decision. Your brother never had that option." Sweets explained.

"So you're saying that Pops shouldn't have kicked Dad out?"

"No, but your brother needs a chance to sit down and talk to someone, who has a history of abusive behavior, mainly because he can't talk to your father."

"If I give him your number will you shut up?"

"Sure." Sweets conceded.


	3. Breaking the News

"Okay, Cam just texted me the wife's address." Booth said.

"Why did you say it like that?" Sweets asked, "Why didn't you say the 'victim's address'?"

"Apparently they were separated, they had both lawyered up and the wife was living in the house." Booth said, he glanced slowly at Sweets then back on the road. "I'm gonna let you lead on this one."

"You hate it when I talk to the family."

"Yeah, but depending on what she has to say, she might be a suspect, and once a lawyer shows up in my interrogation room, we get nowhere fast."

"Thanks, Booth."

"Why are you thanking me?"

"You've clearly gained an appropriate amount of trust in me to believe I can be an asset, we've come a long way."

"Don't ruin this by going all shrinky on me." Booth muttered with a sigh.

They then pulled up to Marsha Williams' home. Booth quickly shut off the SUV and hopped out onto the grass. Sweets followed him to the door.

Before Booth had a chance to knock the door swung open. Marsha stood in the doorway sobbing.

"No! They're wrong! You're wrong! It's not Ted!" Marsha screamed, tears were pouring down her face.

"Mrs. Williams, I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, I'm with the FBI, can we talk?"

"It can't be Ted! The news must be wrong, he can't be dead!"

"I'm sorry, but we're positive that it was your husband at the stadium." Sweets said.

"Who would want to kill my husband?" Marsha said as she wiped the tears from her face. She was able to stop crying but her eyes were red and swollen.

"Can we come in?" Booth asked.

"Of course." Marsha said, she continued to wipe off her face. She pulled a tissue from her sleeve and rubbed her nose.

The three walked into the living room and sat down.

Booth quickly examined the room and noticed multiple pictures of Ted sitting around, many of him dressed in his ridiculous red outfit, sporting the number '47' which of course was his height. Behind the shrine of pictures Booth saw the actual '47' jersey, which had the name 'Shorty' stitched into the back.

"If you two were separated, why do you have so much of his memorabilia in your house?" Sweets asked.

"We were only apart legally."

"Excuse me?" Booth asked.

"Every time Ted would go to a game, and the _Redskins_ would win, he would get threatened by drunken fans, and we never worried about it, until…" Marsha began sobbing uncontrollably.

"Someone followed your husband home?" Sweets asked.

"Yes" Marsha forced the word through her tears. She dropped down onto the sofa and again began wiping her face.

"So you two legally split up, and he lived somewhere else on weekends?" Booth asked.

"Most likely to keep her safe, Agent Booth." Sweets suggested, "Generally well-adjusted people who make drunken threats aren't going to act on anything, but if someone is going to actually hurt someone because of the outcome of a sporting event, they aren't that well-adjusted. It would be a smart move if Ted genuinely wanted to keep his wife safe."

"Mrs. Williams, I understand that you're going through a lot, so we're going to leave you alone, but if you can think of anyone that would want to hurt your husband, give me a call." Booth knelt down beside Marsha and patted her on the shoulder. He offered her a reassuring smile and sat his business card on her knee.

"And if you need anyone to talk to, I'm a psychiatrist; you can give me a call anytime." Sweets added. He stumbled through his wallet and eventually produced his own business card.

* * *

"Turns out that the victim was worth a whole lot more dead. This shortest fan thing, it was the real deal, he made 75 grand a year, medical, dental, and a hundred thousand dollar life insurance policy." Booth said.

"I know what you're thinking, but it wasn't the wife. His things weren't haphazardly lying around; she carefully placed those around her couch so that while he was away she could stare at the things that meant the most to him. I don't think she could have detached herself from those feelings, for any amount of money." Sweets said.

"We have money, and a bunch of drunken idiots. And a few idle threats aren't enough to make an arrest."

"No, but it is enough to get a warrant for the security cameras around the stadium. If someone followed the victim home, odds are they were involved in an altercation at the stadium."

"Alright, I'll call Caroline."


	4. Cause of Death

"Based on striations to the fourth and fifth cervical vertebra, both of which have no signs of remodeling, I could posit with a fair amount of certainty that this would be cause of death." Brennan said as she slowly ran her fingers across the nick.

"However this particular wound appears to have been made from a blunt and pointed instrument." Edison said.

"Excuse me, Dr. Edison? Blunt and pointed?"

"When you look at the wound under a high resolution magnification, you can clearly tell that the instrument used to make this mark on the bones was angled at the head, but comes to an almost soft and rounded end. But there are no fractures coming from the wound."

"Meaning?" Brennan asked, she was fishing because she already knew the answer.

"Whatever made this wound was small and rounded, but thrust forward with a very high velocity, if this is cause of death I'm almost certain that a human wouldn't be able to generate the speed and force required to cause this damage to the bones."

"You're forgetting something, Dr. Edison." Brennan continued, "The victim's medical records indicate that he suffered from acute osteomyelitis, which would cause the bones to be weaker."

"But also more brittle, wouldn't fracturing be more likely in his case?"

"No. He had just had surgery to repair his trapezius. Most of the muscular tissue would have degraded…"

"Surrounding the bone with excess cushioning, this would allow the bone a shock absorber."

"Correct, Dr. Edison."

"We just found cause of death."

"Make a cast of the wound and send it to Dr. Hodgins, he can compare with any particulates he found and we may be able to determine a weapon."

"Right away, Dr. Brennan."

* * *

"We have three possible suspects from the tapes." Angela said. She was showing the three separate incidents to Booth and Cam on the _Angelatron_. "Each happened right after the Redskins won a game where they were the underdogs."

"None of these guys could have killed Ted Williams."

"Why?" Angela asked.

"Because Dr. Brennan found cause of death, the victim was stabbed in the back of the neck, based on the trajectory; the assailant would have to be as short as he was." Cam said.

"So we're looking for someone under 4' 7", who had motive means and opportunity?" Angela asked.

"Pretty much." Booth said sarcastically.

"I may be able to narrow that down." Angela said. She tapped a few keys on her remote and the surveillance video disappeared. She tapped a few more and the screen went white. "Based on the last census, less than five percent of the population was less than five feet tall." She said as she continued tapping keys. A pie chart appeared on the screen, and a small sliver turned black. "Of that approximately 4.2 percent, only about a quarter of those are football fans. And only three percent of those short football fans root against the Redskins. That leaves us with 27 possibles."

"Angela, you've got to do better than that." Booth said.

"Give her a minute." Cam said.

"I can cross reference those 27 names with those that attended the last game our victim attended. And, only 3 were at _FedEx Field_ that night." Angela said. Instantly three pictures appeared on Angela's screen.

"Great, send that info to the Bureau and we'll have them picked up for questioning." Booth said.

* * *

"So, what about your childhood makes you resilient to have children of your own?" Sweets asked.

"Look, I told Seeley that I'd talk to you, but nothing's going to change my mind. I'm not ready to be a father yet." Jared said.

"I understand your feelings, but I think if we can delve into why you're having those feelings, we may be able find a solution. Perhaps you can come to terms with your childhood and see how things can be different."

"I watched my father beat the hell out of my mom. I saw what he did to Seeley, and it took Pops stepping in and telling dad to hit the road, and that's the only reason he didn't touch me." Jared continued, "I don't have a father to step in when I go too far."

"_When_ you go too far?" Sweets asked. "Why do you assume that you will go too far, and it's not just a possibility?"

"I don't know. But I can't see myself risking Teri's, or my child's, safety just so I can be happy."

"You don't deserve to be happy?"

"For years, I've been pushing people away, sometimes not meaning to, others because I needed space, and all of this is because I can't stand to hurt the people I love. Every time I go away, and don't call my brother, don't answer his letters, it's not because I don't love him. It's because the last time I truly reached out and connected with someone, they left and I never saw them again."

"So you aren't afraid that you'll beat Teri, or your child, you're afraid that you'll leave?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're a lot like Tempe, and me. You two are the only ones that know the hurt. That understand what it feels like to be abandoned. And if there's the slightest chance that I might wake up one day and decide to leave. Then I'm sure as hell not going to get attached and make them suffer the way I did."

"But you've seen what Dr. Brennan did; she moved past that, she's engaged to your brother, she's happy."

"Her dad came back."

"It's not that simple."

"I'm done." Jared stood up and grabbed his coat; he began to walk towards the door, but stopped. He turned and gave a last look to Sweets. "Tell my brother; thank you. But I don't think I can be fixed."


	5. Interrogation

"Good morning." Booth said, as he walked into the interrogation room. He held in one hand a large manila file and in the other hand a steaming cup of coffee.

"I didn't kill him. I have receipts, I was at the game." Daniel Brock said, "It was in Indianapolis, we won by the way."

"Mr. Brock, I'm sorry you had to come in this morning, but that's what happens when a person of interest in my murder case slams the door on a Metro Cop." Booth said sliding into his chair. He raised his brow and allowed a look of glee in his eyes.

"That's what happens when you've been in trouble."

"Oh, Danny, I know all about your trouble." Booth said. "You were arrested when you were 16 for going on a little joyride in your neighbor's Mustang."

"That's sealed!"

"Not in a murder case." Booth continued, "Then when you turned 22 we've got contributing to the delinquency of a minor and resisting arrest, kinda wanna hear that story."

"I-"

"Not now" Booth interrupted, "Then when you turned 25 we have aggravated assault and they found a gun in your pocket. What happened, you lose your conceal and carry permit?" Booth mocked. He dropped the file on the table. "I've got 6 other misdemeanor cases, all of em are open. Why shouldn't I just add murder in there?"

"Look, I know it's suspicious that I ran, but I didn't hurt Ted! We were going to buy an RV together, start going to see all the away games, not just the ones the team pays him for. I was the best thing that ever happened to him!" Daniel said.

"Then why do I have a picture of you two near the concession stand?" Booth asked flipping a picture out on the table. "You two are having a discussion here, and you, you don't look too happy there."

"Ted was making bets again. He knew that he wasn't supposed to be doing it. He could have lost everything!"

"What, was he addicted to gambling?"

"No, he hardly ever bet on a game, but because he worked for the team, he played by the same rules as everyone else. No bets, no negative PR, they made him walk the straight and narrow from day one."

"So, what? He bet on the _Skins_, lost some money, maybe his bookie cuts you a deal? You turn him over and you don't get a pair of cement shoes?"

"No, he didn't have a bookie! He placed bets with people at the game, never anything too big, but if the owner found out, he would have had some walking papers. I mean considering."

"Considering what?" Booth asked.

"He always bet against the team. I mean he was the biggest fan, he ate, breathed and slept _Redskins_ football, but he knew the team never won. And that was the whole reason for that stupid fight, we won this weekend, he lost about six grand, not only was that RV money, but he might've lost his job."

"That sounds like motive."

"I didn't kill the guy!"

"I'll tell you what. I'm going to go ahead and charge you with resisting arrest and obstruction of justice, and then I'll know where you're at until I need you again." Booth said with a smile, he stood up and left the room.

Sweets was waiting outside the room for Booth. "We don't have enough to charge him, Dr. Brennan just called, they can't identify the murder weapon." Sweets said.

"That cocky son of a bitch might have an alibi, but as soon as the squints get some info, we'll get him, we always do." Booth turned to walk away.

"Agent Booth," Sweets continued, "If you have a minute."

"Go ahead, Sweets."

"I spoke with your brother, and I think the only real way to help him is to be there for him." Sweets said, Booth looked a little confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Jared wasn't able to move on with his life the way you have. He's jumped from job to job, woman to woman, and from place to place, his entire life he's found it easier to keep from loving anything, anyone, or anywhere too much, so he doesn't have to risk losing it. He's going to have to realize, on his own, where he needs to be."

"So, what? Dad messed him up that much?"

"Yes. In fact, I tried to construct a bit of a timeline, from the time he left home for the Marines, until now, and the only thing that was consistent, through everything, was you. He feels like your father abandoned him. And then he became attached to your grandfather, but after Jared left home, he never felt welcome back. His actions from that point on have been tremendously unusual, I mean he never came home to visit your grandfather, he's never once seen him in the nursing home. You are the only person he truly cares about."

"What are you trying to say, Sweets?"

"He feels like you're starting to abandon him as well, you're moving on with your life, and getting married to Dr. Brennan, so in an effort to subconsciously make you stay, he did the one thing he knew would infuriate you. He turned his back on his family."

"Thanks, Sweets." Booth said, he slowly turned and walked away.

* * *

"You didn't give me much, Cherie. Even if you charge that Brock guy, he'll walk tomorrow, and that's assuming all he can afford is a public defender!" Caroline said.

"He ran, while he was a person of interest in my murder investigation." Booth said.

"I know that, but you have nothing definitive, everything's circumstantial. I can do my best to drag my feet, but if your squints can't get solid evidence in the next couple hours, I'll have no choice but to turn everything over to a judge in the morning."

"Can you get me a warrant to search his place while he's in lock-up?"

"Not until you get me something a little better than a guy with a history of making bets, losing some money on a bet."

"Look, Caroline, when I talked to the guy, he knew that I knew he did it, and he thinks we can't touch him, if we don't find someone, this guy's going to walk."

"I'm sorry, but the law is the law." Caroline sighed. "What do the squints know so far?"

"Just that he was stabbed in the neck with something about the size of a pen."

"That's going to sound really official when we try to get a warrant."

"It's got a flat top, rounded off about a quarter inch across, and it widens out it was about a half inch at the surface of the bone, but that was only a few centimeters deep, we'll probably never find out what did it."

"Unless we jump to a conclusion."

"What?"

"We find something roughly that shape, which Brock access to, get a warrant to find that, and you take the queen of the squints in there with her magic light. When you find blood you give me a call, cher."

"That's manufacturing evidence. We don't break the law; we stop people from breaking the law." Booth said.

"You don't sound too convinced of that one."

"That's because part of me wants to do that just to arrest that smug son of a bitch."


End file.
